


Circumstantial

by pl2363



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pl2363/pseuds/pl2363
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunstreaker has a secret admirer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circumstantial

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tf_rare_pair October 'Trick or Treat' challenge. 
> 
> Prowl/Sunstreaker- secret admirer

"That sucked," Sideswipe said limping along side Sunstreaker.

"Told you not to," Sunstreaker replied as he slipped an arm around his middle to help him hobble down the corridor.

"Really? You're pulling the 'I told you so' line on me?" Sideswipe frowned at his brother.

"I did shout ‘Sides, don’t be stupid!’ before you decided to rocket pack to the top of Bruticus and get swatted to the ground like a fly,” Sunstreaker replied in a dry tone.

Sideswipe huffed air from his intakes. “Whatever…”

As they rounded the corner into the barracks, they were greeted by a grinning Bluestreak at their quarter’s door.

“Hey, Blue!” Sideswipe immediately perked up.

Sunstreaker frowned. His brother and Bluestreak had been seeing one another over the last few months, which was annoying enough, but what really irked him was being the third wheel.

“Hi Sides! I brought you some energon and I have a movie you might like loaded on my datapad.” Bluestreak then grinned at Sunstreaker. “Hey Sunny.”

“Hey,” Sunstreaker replied.

They proceeded into their quarters and Sunstreaker helped his brother over to his berth. Bluestreak plopped down beside Sideswipe and looked him up and down. “You in a lot of pain?”

“Just sore is all,” Sideswipe replied, smiling.

Not in the mood to stand around watching them make googly optics at one another, Sunstreaker picked up his cleaning kit. “Going to the washracks.”

“Okay,” Sideswipe replied as he took hold of Bluestreak’s hand. “Um, how long you gonna be?”

Sunstreaker deeply frowned at his brother. “Won’t be back anytime soon.”

…

Standing in the washracks, Sunstreaker scrubbed at his plating. He was so annoyed. His brother had always been his best friend, the one mech he did everything with. Now that Bluestreak was always hanging around he felt displaced and alone.

Heaving a sigh, he rinsed the scrub brush.

“It’s a little late to be washing, isn’t it?”

Sunstreaker glanced over his shoulder. Prowl stood just outside the stall Sunstreaker was occupying.

“I guess,” Sunstreaker replied.

Prowl stepped into the adjacent stall, hung his drying cloth over the wall, and turned on the water.

What a weird mech he was, pointing out the late hour to be in here then proceeding to wash himself up. Sunstreaker turned off the water in his stall, and after quickly drying off, rifled through his kit looking for his favorite wax. He glanced back over at Prowl, watching him push a sudsy sponge over his plating. Despite being Praxian like Bluestreak, Prowl had some distinct differences like his larger doorwings, and far more striking black and white paint. As Sunstreaker gazed at him, he decided he liked the red chevron best, though.

Prowl glanced at Sunstreaker. “Did you need something?”

“No.” Sunstreaker quickly averted his gaze and stood up with his can of wax and a small cloth. He scooped out some of the wax and applied it in small circles over his arms, then chestplate. Working his way down his front, and over his legs, he focused on making sure he carefully applied it everywhere. Usually his brother would help him with his backside, but he’d have to just skip it for now.

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Prowl asked.

Glancing up, he was vaguely startled to see Prowl dried off and standing at the entrance of his stall.

“Uh…” Sunstreaker wasn’t sure what to say. Having the SIC applying wax to him seemed like breaking a rule or something.

“Unless you’d planned on only shining your front?” Prowl asked, looking vaguely confused by that notion.

“Sides usually does it,” Sunstreaker said. “Uh, you know, gets my back.”

“He’s conspicuously absent. Though, after this afternoon’s incident, I imagine he’s resting and recovering,” Prowl replied. “I don’t mind helping.”

Shrugging a shoulder, Sunstreaker nodded. “Sure, okay.” He picked up a clean rag and handed Prowl the can and cloth.

Prowl moved to his back, and applied the wax while Sunstreaker used the rag to bring his arms and chestplate to a shine. He could tell Prowl was being much more thorough than his brother usually was with his smaller fingers carefully applying the wax into the intricate shapes of his plating. He still felt a little weird about having Prowl help him, but he was glad he wouldn’t have to walk around with a dull backside. With the assistance, Sunstreaker’s plating was soon gleaming.

Prowl stood back, inspecting his work.

“How do I look?” Sunstreaker asked peering over his shoulder at him.

“Stunning, as usual,” Prowl replied with a small smile.

Sunstreaker thrived on compliments, but something about Prowl saying ‘stunning’ effectively humbled him. “Thanks…”

“Happy to lend a hand.” Prowl stepped out of the stall.

“Thanks for helping me, too,” Sunstreaker blurted out.

Prowl nodded. “Anytime.”

Turning, Prowl exited the washracks without another word. Sunstreaker stood alone, trying to wrap his processor around what just happened. Prowl actually smiled, and told him he was ‘stunning’. It felt like the highest compliment anyone had ever given him. He glanced down his front, rubbing his fingers over his glossy plating. Maybe Prowl wasn’t the stick in the mud he appeared to be?

…

“Press jump!” Bluestreak sat on the edge of the couch in the lounge next to Sideswipe, apparently helping his brother play the single shooter game he’d loaded by shouting what he should do.

Sunstreaker was sitting at the end of the couch, bored out of his mind. The third wheel, again.

“Oh, oh! Look in the chest. You got that key on level 8. I bet it’ll open now,” Bluestreaker said, pointing.

Sideswipe grinned. “Frag yeah!” he said as the chest opened.

Heaving a sigh, Sunstreaker finally had enough and stood up. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Sideswipe continued to wrangle with the controller, not even looking up at him.

“Okay. See ya, Sunny,” Bluestreak replied with a smile.

Sunstreaker gave his brother a dark look, then left. Bad enough he felt alone, but his brother was only making it worse by ignoring him. Truding through the hallways he passed by his various crewmates. Everyone he passed seemed so fragging happy, which only irritated him more.

Heading into the barracks, he planned to go hide in his room and wallow in self-pity, but slowed as he drew closer to the door to his shared quarters. In front of the door was a small box. He stooped down and picked it up, reading the hand written name scrawled over the top: Sunstreaker.

“Weird.” Hardly anyone hand wrote anything anymore. Everything was done with datafiles these days.

Entering his room, he plopped down on his berth and removed the lid to the box. Another note was written on a small piece of scrap metal: _Sometimes a little escapism is helpful. -Your secret admirer._ Beneath the note was a datapad, which he took out of the box and turned on. It was loaded with a series of fictions, mostly mystery novels.

“Who would leave me this?” Sunstreaker asked the empty room. He couldn’t think of anyone. He set the box on the table beside his berth, and then scooted so he was sitting with his back against the wall. “Better than wallowing, I suppose,” he said as he opened the first novel listed.

…

Guard duty was a boring assignment. He was stuck at a powerplant with Ironhide to deter any troublemaking ‘Cons. So far it had been quiet, though. Prowl supposedly chose the most likely targets and dispatched teams to each location. The humans had left them at the front gates, standing around like idiots.

Leaning against the cinder block wall, Sunstreaker took out the datapad with the novels and opened the third one he’d started the day before. He had to admit while it wasn’t a gift he’d ever ask for, he was really enjoying it.

“What are ya reading there?” Ironhide asked.

“Something called ‘Yesterday’s Spark,” Sunstreaker replied.

“Oh, I read that, a long, long time ago. What’s got ya reading old Cybertronian mysteries?” Ironhide asked.

Sunstreaker glanced up at the elder warrior. “Someone left this for me.”

“Someone? Who?” Ironhide asked.

“I don’t know. The note said it was a ‘secret admirer’,” Sunstreaker replied with a shrug.

Ironhide chuckled. “Ah to be young and good lookin’.”

Sunstreaker shook his head as he grinned. “Funny thing is, I don’t usually read this kind of stuff, but all the novels on here have been really good.”

“Can I see the list?” Ironhide asked as he stepped closer.

Sunstreaker closed the novel and opened the main menu. Ironhide stared at the list for a long moment, then he smiled.

“What?” Sunstreaker asked.

“Nothing,” Ironhide replied. “All great choices.”

Frowning at Ironhide, Sunstreaker narrowed his optics. “What’s with the smile?”

“I think I know who left it fer ya, but in case I’m wrong, I don’t wanna say,” Ironhide replied.

Pursing his lips, Sunstreaker huffed air from his intakes. “Just tell me who you think it is. ‘Cause honestly, I have no clue.”

“Eh, alright. I think it was the same little Praxian that sent us out here,” Ironhide replied with a knowing smile.

“ _Prowl?_ You think Prowl left me this thing? You’re crazy,” Sunstreaker replied as he laughed. “Why in the world would you think that?”

“Prowl’s pretty private, but one thing I _do_ know ‘bout him is that he loves mysteries. He used to be an investigator in Praxus back in the golden age, you know,” Ironhide explained.

“Your case is thin. Circumstantial at best,” Sunstreaker replied, using some of the jardon from the novel he was reading.

Ironhide playfully slapped Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “Maybe it is. I could be wrong. Just that--” Ironhide gazed at the datapad in Sunstreaker’s hands. “--Prowl’s the only mech I know on the crew that loves those types of novels aside from Prime. And no offense intended, but a Prime is outta yer league.” Ironhide lightly chuckled.

Sunstreaker half-frowned. “Har, har.”

Looking back down at the datafile, he pondered the idea of Prowl being his ‘secret admirer’. But the mech that left this for him seemed to know he’d been upset about his brother blowing him off… He then remembered the encounter in the wash racks. No, it couldn’t be. That would be fraternization and he knew Prowl valued rules above all else. Besides he didn’t say he was mad at his brother or anything and that had been a few weeks ago now. He frowned, wishing he knew who’d left it for him, so he could at the very least thank them.

…

“Sunny?”

Sunstreaker had settled in at a corner table in rec room to sip his energon and start reading the fifth novel on his gifted datapad. He glanced up at the mech who’d called his name.

“Yeah?”

Jazz stood beside the table with huge grin on his face. “How ya doin’?” he asked as he sat down. “Noticed you haven’t been in the lounge much to hang out.”

Shrugging a shoulder, he frowned. “No reason to be.”

The grin on Jazz’s face faded a little. “Look, I know the Sides and Blue thing has been kinda rough fer ya. Just give ‘em a little time to get over the ‘love sickness’ part of things, and then everythin’ll get back to normal.”

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at Jazz. He’d been through his brother’s little romances before, and it was always the same treatment: ditch and ignore him. “Sure, whatever.” He turned his attention back to his reading, pointedly ignoring Jazz.

“Well, if you change yer mind, we’re gonna have a little gaming party in the lounge later tonight,” Jazz replied.

“Okay.” Sunstreaker refused to look up.

Jazz sighed, then got to his feet. He hesitated, like he wanted to say something more, but seemed to give up after a moment and finally left.

Lowering his datapad to look up, Sunstreaker noticed a small box left on the table. Had Jazz left it? Why would he-- Staring at the lid, he saw his name handwritten across the top of it. “Jazz!” he yelled after him. He picked up the box and chased him down at the door.

“Sunny?” Jazz looked confused as Sunstreaker came jogging up to him.

“ _You_ left this box?” Sunstreaker asked in an accusatory tone.  

Jazz shook his head. “Nah, it was there when I sat down. Has yer name on it, Sunny.” He pointed to the lid. “Isn’t it yours?”

Confused, Sunstreaker glanced around the rec room. “You didn’t leave it just now?”

“Heh, nah. Wasn’t me,” Jazz replied. “You okay, Sunny?”

“I’m fine,” Sunstreaker replied with a frown. He gave Jazz a dirty look, then stalked back over to the table.

Jazz hovered at the doorway, but eventually exited. Once he was gone, Sunstreaker focused on the small mystery box. He fingered the handwritten letters, then opened the lid. Inside he found another note etched on a piece of scrap metal: _The best place to escape the bustle and noise of the base is topside. -Your secret admirer_. There was nothing else inside the box this time. He frowned, not sure what to make of the note or how or when this small item had been left here for him.

“Topside, huh?” he said quietly to himself.  

He picked up his energon, gulping down the contents and got to his feet, subspacing his gifts as he left the rec room. Upper level had a small staircase that led the only working hatch, since the others were buried in the rock face of the mountain. He climbed the skinny staircase up to it, input his code, and the hatch hissed open. Climbing out onto the roof, he couldn’t help but hope who ever this was leaving these gifts planned to meet him up here.

Walking across the open space, he frowned. No one was here.

He gazed out over the darkened desert, with only the moon to illuminate the sparse landscape. It was a nice view. It was also quiet. Disappointed, he walked over to the edge of the ship and sat down. He took the note out again, reading it over and over, trying to glean something more from it.

“Now I feel like even more of a loser,” he said to the piece of scrap metal. “Alone on the roof of the base. If the plan was to humiliate me, you did it.” He considered tossing the note, hucking it as far as he could throw it, but knew that he’d regret it if he did. He subspaced it, and sat there sulking. He was about to get up and go back inside when a voice cut through the silence.

“I was waylaid. I do apologize.”

Sunstreaker turned and looked over his shoulder, gaze landing on Prowl. Mouth gaped, he stared at him completely shocked. “You left me those things?”

Prowl nodded as he crossed the roof. “May I sit with you?”

Dumbfounded, Sunstreaker simply nodded.

Sitting himself down beside Sunstreaker, Prowl offered him an apologetic smile. “I had timed my exit from the control room to coincide with you locating the second box, but Red Alert kept me there longer than I anticipated.”

Sunstreaker then narrowed his optics. “Jazz _did_ leave that box, didn’t he?”

Prowl nodded. “I asked for his assistance.”

“That aft lied to me,” Sunstreaker replied, annoyed he’d fallen for it. “Frag, he’s good. I totally believed him.”

Prowl chuckled.

“And I can’t believe Ironhide was right. Did he know, too?” Sunstreaker asked.

Confusion clouded Prowl’s face. “Know what exactly?”

“That you gave me the datapad with the novels. I was reading it when you sent us off to baby sit the electrical plant the other day, and he took one look at the list of novels and said he thought it was you,” Sunstreaker replied.

Raising an optic ridge, Prowl half-frowned. “You really shouldn’t be reading while on guard duty. And no, I didn’t tell him anything, but he’s known me almost as long as Jazz.”

Sunstreaker bit at his lower lip for a moment as he looked at Prowl. “So what’s the deal? Why did you do all this?”

Prowl’s doorwings perked up a little as he warmly smiled. “You seemed upset when I saw you in the washracks. Blue tends to confide in me and I learned about your issues with Sideswipe a few days later from him. I know how hard it can be when you feel left behind or ignored. I simply wanted to help.”

“Oh,” Sunstreaker replied. He glanced out over the desert, somewhat disappointed there wasn’t more to it than that.

Fingers brushed over his, and he looked down as Prowl took hold of his hand and squeezed.

He looked back up at Prowl. “Well, thanks for being nice to me and everything.”

Prowl turned toward Sunstreaker and reached up with his other hand, running the backs of his fingers down his face. “It was about more than being nice. I guess I’m more rusty than I realized when it came to courtship.”

Surprised, Sunstreaker gazed at Prowl’s face lit by the moon and the light from their optics. “Courtship, huh?” A smile spread across his lips. “What about rules and fraternization and all that?”

“Optimus lifted the official regulations some time ago. I continued to abide it out of habit. It afforded me the ability to remain more objective,” Prowl replied.

“That’s the worst flirting ever,” Sunstreaker replied with a chuckle. He leaned in closer, ghosting his lips over Prowl’s. “Wanna try that again?”

Prowl sheepishly smiled. “I have long lost any objectivity when it comes to you. I often ogle you when you don’t think I’m looking.”

Laughing a little at Prowl’s confession, Sunstreaker touched their noses together. “That’s a start.”

Pressing forward, they kissed. Warmth spread over his lips, making his whole frame flash with heat. The trading of small, soft-mouthed kisses soon shifted to a more passionate, deep kiss, and their glossae met between their linked mouths. Rusty at flirting, maybe. Rusty at kissing? Not at all…


End file.
